Our Little Family

Chapter 3

A/N: Again, don't expect me to update this quickly, but I had an idea for the story and I just went with it. As a warning, this chapter is darker than the other ones. Like not as light or funny or cute. Just warning y'all.

I had just finished unpacking my stuff and was heading towards the dining room when I heard the front door slam and a familiar maniacal laugh followed by a "Sverige!"

-OLF-

I walked cautiously to the front door to see who the guest was. Denmark and Norway were standing in the doorway and were being greeted by a nervous looking Finland and being stared down by Sweden with his forever frightening face.

"Hej Sverige! Long time, no see!" Denmark practically yelled as he hugged Finland and patted Sweden on the shoulder, "So, where's that new little fellah from the boat?"

"Actually, Denmark, we would like to let Sealand adjust to living with us before we let you come and visit us unexpectedly-" Finland's speech turned to a mumble as Denmark spotted me and stumbled toward my hiding spot behind a decorative plant.

"Well, isn't he just so cute! Sealand huh? Don't you mean Britain's brat?" Denmark said mockingly as he pinched my cheeks. I could smell the liquor in his breath, and I frowned indignantly at the part about me being 'Britain's brat'.

"That's enough, Denmark." A monotonous voice said. I looked at the source of the voice and it seemed to come from Norway. He had a cool, indifferent expression on his face but briefly sent a glare towards Denmark. "Leave the kid alone, let's just head home."

The glare went unnoticed by Denmark as he stepped away once he was bored of pinching my face.

"So, when are we going to eat? I'm starving!" Denmark blurted into the silence as he made his way to the dining table, and then leaned heavily on the back of one of the chairs.

I sent a scared look to Finland, who then nudged Sweden and motioned discreetly towards me. Sweden stared at me for a bit and then approached the drunken Dane.

"Go home, Denmark. Yer not welcome here when yer drunk." Sweden grunted.

"And who's gonna make me?" Denmark faced Sweden with a defiant expression.

"Ah will if ah have to." Sweden replied forcefully.

Denmark blinked with a confused expression- similar to the expression England gets when America defies him or doesn't listen to him- which soon morphed into anger.

Sweden glared at Denmark with intense cobalt eyes. This glare was different from his permanently angry face. Sweden's eyes narrowed, his jaw set, his shoulders squared, and I could almost feel the anger emitting from him.

Denmark swung a fist aiming towards Sweden's face, but misjudged the distance between them and fell to the floor. He lifted himself off the ground and faced Sweden again. Sweden sent a swift punch to Denmark's temple, and the Dane crumpled to the ground, silence followed.

"Ah'll drop Denmark off at his house. You and Sealand go ahead and eat without me." Sweden told Finland before he lifted Denmark's limp body from the ground and headed towards the car Denmark and Norway had come in. Norway followed closely, after sending me and Finland an apologetic glance.

I noticed that I had been gripping the front of my shirt so tight that my shirt was stretched out of form, my eyes wide with horror, and my pulse racing. Finland looked at me and immediately knelt by my side.

"Shhh, everything is okay Sealand. It's okay." Finland murmured reassuringly as he gathered me into his lap and rocked me. That's when I realized that I had been crying.

I was a young nation, raised by a calm though irritable Englishman whose achievements were literature, embroidery, and manners. The worst thing he allowed me to experience was his cooking or his drunken rants about fairies and unicorns. But, I had only been here for a few hours and I had had my personal space invaded by a drunken nation and I had witnessed Sweden, my future caretaker, knock out another nation. There was violent history between the Viking nations, and I had only witnessed some of the after effects.

And I didn't want to stay here. I wanted to leave. I couldn't handle staying here. Sweden was now even more frightening, Denmark could come back more violent and more drunk, I couldn't handle it.

"Mama, I want to go home." I weakly pleaded as i snuggled into Finland's chest. I don't know why I called Finland 'Mama'. Possibly because he was the closest thing I had to a mother figure in that moment. He was nice, caring, gentle, everything that I imagined a mother would be like. Finland didn't seem bothered by the fact that I called him Mama and he just kept rocking me back and forth.

"O-okay, if that's what you want Sealand, we'll take you back home tomorrow morning."

Exhausted, I fell asleep against Finland's chest as he rocked me and quietly sang a Finnish lullaby.

A/N: THIS IS NOT THE END! There will be more. And I didn't decide to make Denmark a jerk because I hate him or anything (heck, I'm the Denmark in my group of Hetalia friends!). Anyways, I'm changing the genre from humor to drama because this story is going to be more of humor, drama, hurt/comfort, cuteness, and feels combined. Please review! Constructive criticism is welcomed!